


Some Day Comes Too Soon

by MellytheHun



Series: Kylux Angst November [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Getting to Know Each Other, I'm still using my canon name for Hux, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, tumblr event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8447734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: Day Two of Angst November: Memories





	

**Author's Note:**

> _“I keep remembering — I keep remembering. My heart has no pity on me.”_ – Henri Barbusse

The wind and rain are whipping, the night is dark and cold.

He feels eyes on the First Order insignia patch adorning his shoulder and without much more warning than that, he hears the question; “do you remember it well?”

Rage floods him.

What an absurd question.

 

* * *

When first meeting Hux, Kylo was not impressed – to say the least.

“What are you, just twenty-five?”

If Kylo had been told the General was Force-sensitive, maybe he’d have been less put off by how young he looked. Kylo knew he himself had a young face, even younger looking than he truly was, but _this_? _This_ was the oh-so highly spoken of General of the First Order? He was only so many years older than Kylo and without Force-sensitivity - what threat to any galaxy could he possibly pose?

The General sneered dangerously at him and quirked one pristine brow before asking, “and what are you, _twelve_?”

“Boys,” Snoke interrupted, drawing both their loyal attentions back to him, “Enough of that. It is integral to my plans that you two learn to work together.”

The General’s shoulders stiffened an inch, misunderstanding wafting from him like a smog and then Snoke added, “Kylo Ren will be co-commander of _The Finalizer_. You will find a way to live with each other or the consequences will be dire. Am I understood?”

Kylo was fascinated to see the General’s mouth open, as if he were about to _argue_ with the Supreme Leader. Kylo had certainly never seen anyone dare. It would have been fascinating, but wisely, the General chose not to. He was clearly outraged, his pale cheeks going rosy, his eyes sharp and defiant, his shoulders high and set, but he didn’t say another word.

What only served to confused Kylo more is that Snoke seemed entirely unbothered by that display of insubordination – Kylo had only just met this General, but he’d been told by Snoke that he was a reliable sort, had as much wit as Kylo had midi-chlorians and had great plans for the Order. Kylo had expected some stout, elderly person with muscle and awards plastered to their chest.

Instead, Kylo came to meet General Hux; he was tall, lanky, pallid and his uniform was too understated if anything. One might never know he held such a high title at such a young age if not for the stripes on his sleeve.

_What sort of awards have you won?_

_Get out of my head._

“Kylo – you and the General are to _get along_ ,” Snoke scolded.

“I was just trying to get to know him,” Kylo complained, feigning innocence.

Without looking, Kylo could _feel_ how hard the General rolled his eyes.

Snoke didn’t speak on it again – he had introduced them, declared them both co-commanders and then had gone about delivering orders as if all was normal. As if shoving two unsociable and non-negotiating people together and demanding their cooperation was so simple as that. They would co-command _The Finalizer_ \- that meant they would be living together on the same ship for however long Supreme Leader Snoke deemed necessary. They were stuck together, indefinitely. Their clashing auras were chaotic and Kylo questioned Snoke's wisdom for the first time that day.

Against all odds, normalcy _did_ eventually reach them. Routine does that to men, no matter how epic or powerful they are. Regularity is taming, calming and while a dull one, it set a pulse throughout the ship that the both of them could feel and follow. Hux seemed to thrive under pressure and strict regime – he and Kylo quickly learned they did not enjoy the same work environments.

While Hux positively blossomed under the time restraints and unforgiving demands of militant structure, Kylo nearly lost his mind, pacing the ship like a caged beast. Any small inconvenience would set him off and after he’d killed five officers for doing little more than delivering unfortunate news, Hux made a formal complaint to Snoke about Kylo's 'ill behavior.' There was certainly no redemption to be had, but there was a compromise reached that Kylo would only damage _inanimate_ things.

Many a conference room and control panel suffered his wrath after that.

He and Hux rarely traded words, but they were mostly well-mannered when they did; maybe cold, disinterested in the other's affairs, but not all too impolite. They managed.

Hux typically had his Captain close by and while Kylo could kill the both of them in the blink of an eye, he still hated feeling out-numbered in social situations. Maybe he hated more that Hux seemed to have a _friend_ in such an unlikely place. Either way, he kept his crossings with Hux brief and avoided them altogether when he could. Hux seemed to appreciate the brevity of Kylo’s interest in speaking to him as well - respected Kylo enough to keep a parade stance in his presence, despite the fact that Kylo never saluted him or offered him the same professional posture. Hux tolerated Kylo just as Kylo very barely tolerated him. 

They spoke to each other only when it was absolutely necessary to do so - Hux preferred sending messages to communicate, Kylo preferred looming ominously until whoever was speaking to him thought better of the idea and left. That was the sum of their socializations; brief, tolerable, mostly polite and always impersonal. 

Then, like a lightning strike, very randomly, Hux asked one cycle why Kylo wore his hair so long. The work cycle had been coming to a close and Kylo had braided some of his hair to get it out of his eyes that day. He’d forgotten that he’d done anything out of the ordinary with it until Hux had made mention.

Hands folded on the small of his back, Hux had turned toward him stiffly and asked, “does it not bother you? Having hair on your neck?”

Kylo had reached up to his neck and felt at it, as if he'd never considered his own neck before - shrugging, he answered, “makes me feel protected, I think. Keeps my jugular out of sight. Certainly doesn’t bother me. Should it?”

“ _Should_ it?” Hux asked, looking at him curiously, but not unkindly as he often had and so coldly as usual, “That’s the type of question a droid would ask. I don’t think you _ought_ to be bothered by one thing or another, I just wondered. You wear your hair very long.”

“Perhaps by military standards,” Kylo offered conversationally.

They stared at each other a long few moments after that – it was the most civil they’d managed to be with each other in the first standard year they’d known one another and it was clear that they’d both taken note of the oddity.

Kylo had slept very well that rest cycle. He didn’t like thinking Hux’s sudden show of friendliness had anything to do with it, but his mind has ever been a traitor.

Things evolved between them after that rather quickly. Kylo would make a point to linger a beat longer than completely necessary after speaking with Hux and feel at Hux’s energy, seeking to understand why Hux was unbothered by his lingering or he’d go find Hux on the bridge for no other purpose than to watch the man at work.

It was artistic some days; Hux was a thin man, yes, not all too intimidating to look on, certainly no warrior, but he commanded respect and fear as soon as he entered the bridge – his hands would move over holo-screens and his greatcoat would sway with every movement, like he was orchestrating. Hux seemed so light and ghostly at times, Kylo thought Hux could be carried away by a soft breeze, but it was times on the bridge - times Hux was in his element - that his fitted boots bolted to the floor like the most significant gear in a well-oiled machine and he looked like an enticingly immovable object.

Loathe as he was to admit it, even to himself, Kylo liked to watch Hux command the bridge.

On one such occasion, while Kylo watched Hux command the bridge and orchestrate, Kylo witnessed Hux reassembling a control panel when he’d decided maintenance wasn’t arriving in a timely enough fashion. Hux's temper wasn't too unlike Kylo's - his patience wore thin, he was almost compulsively punctual and he cast swift, unforgiving judgement upon those that didn't meet his personal standards. So, when maintenance was not there to fix the panel within the first ten minutes of having been called up to the bridge, Hux had taken it upon himself to repair whatever was wrong.

Kylo watched him bite the tips of his gloves and tear them off with his perfectly white teeth, watched how Hux opened the boards with knowing fingers, reset wires, flip some switches – then an officer called for him, his focus slipped and he shocked himself.

Kylo was on the bridge in an instant, the surrounding officers were all making a worried fuss, but Hux was having none of it. He was ordering them to get back and give him ‘some breathing room for God’s sake,’ when Kylo entered his line of vision.

Kylo didn’t wait to be invited; Hux was unafraid of him and always had been. That used to bother Kylo, but not then. Then, he was captivated by the thought. He wondered how brave Hux might be – he’s clearly not an idiot, he’s a genius, in fact. Kylo hated admitting to that as well, but it was irrefutable – Hux was strategic, efficient, calculating and undeniably clever.

Kylo is just as undeniably dangerous, but Hux has never once felt fear in his presence – even when he witnessed Kylo’s saber tearing through otherwise impenetrable metals, even when he saw Kylo murder men on a whim, for breathing too near to him, for delivering inconvenient news – Hux _never_ feared him. Even when Kylo consciously _tried_ to make Hux scared of him - trying to influence Hux through use of the Force was just about impossible. His mental fortitude was too strong for mind tricks or simple influences, so nothing Kylo could do elicited the fear he'd once wanted but was, in that moment, glad not to have provoked.

As Kylo has been taught in training, there are three realities that exist in the face of lethal danger; wisdom presented as fear, idiocy presented as egotism and capability presented as apathy. Hux was always the latter.

Predictably, then, he remained stony-faced as Kylo knelt down and took his thin wrist in hand. There were visible burn marks on his fingertips and even a smoke rising from them. Kylo removed his own gloves, only noticing then that he’d never seen Hux’s naked hands before. It was bizarrely intimate.

He grasped Hux’s hand between both of his own and set about healing the burns. Kylo wasn’t always consistent with his healing performances and at a young age, he’d instinctively taken to shutting his eyes in fear that it might go awfully wrong. A burn as simple as this was child’s play for him, though - no real risk, no reason to shut his eyes in concern of failure and he only noticed his eyes were shut once he’d opened them again.

He looked up and found Hux’s eyes fixed on their joined hands, his mouth just slightly agape, his high cheekbones pinkish. Just a few of his fiery red hairs were out of place, but there was something unguarded and endearing about Hux’s expression. He looked younger, somehow.

_You look handsome like that._

_Like what?_ Hux wondered back, not even slightly perturbed that Kylo was talking directly into his mind as he so often complained he hated.

_I’m not sure. You look different, though. Is it relief you’re feeling? What emotion makes you look like this?_

Hux’s eyes moved up to Kylo’s and the apple of his throat bobbed attractively before he replied, _why?_

_I’d like to make you feel it more if I can._

It was enthralling, watching Hux’s moonlight skin turn blood red, feeling Hux’s heart beat rise against his hands somehow. Strangely, Kylo felt no resistance or urge to back away from Hux – in fact, Hux let Kylo hold his hand until Kylo released it on his own time. Fully healed, of course. Unscathed, smooth and cooled.

All Hux had to do was clear his throat, drop eye-contact and furrow his brow - aging him the way it does - his posture went rigid again and just like that, the red drained from his face and he reigned in his emotions. Just like that, in an _instant_ , he was aloof and untouchable as ever. Back in control, back to being The General. 

Kylo had never been so envious.

Simultaneously, he was impressed and filled with unexpected admiration.

Hux may not be Force-sensitive, but he had one power Kylo did not; self-control.

He hated Hux a little for that. He hated that control and discipline seemed to come so easily to Hux. When Kylo made mention of it privately to Snoke, Snoke simply said to him that he shouldn’t be envious of Hux and that the General’s ‘poise and restraint,’ were ‘painstakingly etched into place over many years.’ Kylo expressed interest in learning about Hux’s past, but Snoke wouldn’t entertain it.

A few standard months passed with unremarkable, sporadic interactions until a rest cycle Hux asked for Kylo specifically, over his personal comm. He called Kylo into his _private quarters_ – the request was so outside the realm of normality that Kylo worried Hux was seriously injured or in some immediate danger.

Without thinking much about it, Kylo raced to Hux’s quarters, gearing up to fight to the death to protect his co-commander, only to find the man drinking brandy in just his pants, suspenders and collared shirt (most of which was undone with the sleeves rolled up and Kylo had never seen so much of Hux’s skin – it was unsettling in a pleasant, new way). Hux was standing next to his desk that was stationed before his enormous viewport, several holo-records up and glowing, nebulae green and blue outside.

Hux bypassed greetings as he usually did – Kylo had come to learn that Hux hated small talk and when he could, skipped formalities altogether. He really preferred getting to the point of things; he said to Kylo once that it was more time-efficient and that only ‘idle-minded people waste precious time on idle talk.’ It sounded like a rehearsed answer; like something a father or mother drilled into him. Wherever he picked it up from, he stuck to it; there was no ordinary greeting waiting for Kylo.

“Do you know anything about engineering, Ren?”

“No,” Kylo had answered; he’d never finished primary school – he knew only about the Force and had a very basic understanding of maths and sciences. He was still vaguely wondering where the danger was.

“Well, even so – come here and look at my blueprints,” Hux instructed, “You see, I’ve been designing a weapon for Snoke and the Order. It’s taken me years and I’m eager to put it into production, but when something takes one so many years of work, it’s understandable that one would be… well… insecure, I suppose. Unsure of where their masterpiece ends, if an end is ever truly in sight. I’ve never worked so long on one project before and I can’t really tell if it’s finished or not. Care to take a look? I’d appreciate the input.”

Hux never really spoke this much in one go – Kylo rationalized that Hux must be a little drunk, at least, for his tongue to be so loose. With a curt nod, Kylo stepped forward and read over the holo-records, looked over the designs and even with as little understanding he had of engineering, he could see the colossal undertaking this had been.

He had never seen any weapon of mass destruction so foreboding or refined. Its very nature was poetic, operatic; at its very core it was a construction of lethal artwork. Elegant and devastating - just like Hux.

“You designed this?” Kylo asked, eyes flickering undecidedly over all the bulleted notes beside the diagrams, “By yourself?”

“Yes, but not overnight or anything – and if Snoke is dissatisfied with it, I’ll be back at the proverbial drawing board –"

“He will be thrilled by this.”

Uncertainly, Hux looked at Kylo with eyes open and shining.

Kylo had never noticed they were blue. Very blue. The truest blue there ever had been. A multitude of blues. How had he never noticed?

“You think so?”

“Yes,” Kylo answered readily, quite unwilling to look at anything outside of Hux’s irises, “This is beautiful, Hux. It’s dignified, fatal – you’ve designed something capable of taking the very life of a star, _killing_ a star and redirecting, recycling its energy… it’s… it’s rather genius, really.”

“Starkiller?” Hux asks, his cheeks flushed in that handsome way, but probably more to do with his alcohol-blood levels than any unlikely form of modesty, “Do you like that? For its name? I’ve yet to name it. Do you really think Snoke will like it?”

There was definitely no danger, then. _This_ was why Kylo was summoned.

Kylo wondered why it was he that was standing there with Hux, reassuring the man of his genius and capability and not Captain Phasma. He wondered why Hux chose him, in privacy and with such urgency.

He’d wonder that for a long time.

“I think Snoke will crown you for Starkiller, General. Truly. This is a work of art.”

Two and a half standard years it took them – two and a half standard years, but one of them had managed to compliment the other. Awards should have been handed out for the occasion. Kylo would have liked to be complimented by someone like Hux, someone of discipline and poise and righteous, furious passion. Yes, he supposed he’d have liked to hear a compliment, something congratulatory, something _similar_ in return. Hux gave him something better, though.

He _smiled_.

Hux smiled _at him_ and it was _glorious_. It was beautiful, breathtaking, awe-inspiring and completely disarming.

Nothing so unique and phenomenal had been witnessed by anyone else in the galaxy - Kylo was sure. For just the beauty of that smile, Kylo very nearly kissed Hux right then – it would have been an utter humiliation, no doubt. He had never kissed anyone or been kissed by anyone and he can read a body and mind well enough to know how to do it right given the opportunity, how to give someone else pleasure could come naturally to him with his way of reading energies and intentions, but if he had rushed at Hux like he’d wanted to? Disaster would have soon followed.

Before Kylo could do something so disgraceful and highly ill-advised, Hux inquired, “are you Knight types allowed to drink? Would you share a brandy with me?”

The invitation was gracious and held Kylo arrested. He couldn’t leave if he’d wanted to and good job too, that he didn’t want to. As it turned out, a sleep cycle spent with General Hux and some overpriced brandy was actually rather pleasant.

It was a few standard weeks after the shared brandy and blueprints that Hux first wished Kylo safe travels when he went planet-side.

The gesture was remarkable for several reasons – the first being that Hux had never wished anything well unto Kylo before, certainly not out loud. The second being that Hux said it with sincerity and kindness in his voice - a voice that was normally laced with pomp and distaste - and the third spectacular peculiarity about it was that Hux made a point of saying it in full view of all the officers in the hangar. As if he were proving something to them - to Kylo or to himself. A public acknowledgment that something had changed between them.

“Take care that you return soon and in one piece, Ren,” Hux had said, something like a nervous smile twitching at the corners of his lips, “And, uhm… not sure I’m permitted to say this, as someone who isn’t – well – I –“

Hux _never_ fumbled for words – he was ever, infuriatingly eloquent. Kylo could not understand for the life of him what had come over the General that had him stammering that way. He had that handsome shade of red on his cheekbones, though and his eyes sparkled like sapphires, so Kylo didn’t mind staring a little longer while Hux composed himself.

“I don’t know what sort of quest Snoke has set you onto, but if you require my assistance at any time, don’t hesitate to tap into my personal comm channel. And… may the Force be with you, Ren.”

Kylo was glad to be wearing his mask when Hux said that, because he could feel how flushed his face became. Hux was right to wonder if he was permitted to use that phrase or not – as a non-Force-sensitive person and someone removed from any and all practices of the Force, he had no place saying that sacred phrase. It was a phrase meant to be traded between Force-sensitive Knights, Sith Lords, Jedi, Healers and Warriors. Kylo couldn’t even imagine where Hux heard the phrase, seeing how it had been so sparsely used in recent history.

Hux was looking increasingly worried. He cleared his throat and tapped his temple and it took a few beats for Kylo to understand it was an invitation.

 _Was that alright?_ Hux asked as soon as he felt Kylo’s presence in his mind.

Kylo smiled behind his mask, shut his eyes and wondered when it last was that he smiled. He couldn’t remember.

No, technically, Kylo ought to have told Hux not to use that phrase again. That it belonged to an all but extinct age of men, an elite few that still existed – including Kylo. Those words were just as endangered as the population that had given them life and meaning and were not to be used lightly or handled by those that couldn't fathom the depth of it all. He was supposed to tell Hux he was highly offended and that Hux was not ‘part of the club,’ so to speak. That Hux wasn’t to use that phrase ever again because he hadn’t earned the right to. He was supposed to have told Hux to never utter those words again, no matter how well-meaning his intentions were. Kylo was supposed to have told Hux 'no, that's not alright.' That’s not what Kylo told Hux, though.

 _Quite alright. Reserve those words for me, though. Only me. Never repeat them to another Force user. Just me_ , Kylo instructed, honestly thinking of Hux’s safety.

Hux smirked, tilted his head a little to the side and responded, _well, I don’t much care about the good fortune of other Force users, so you needn’t worry about me wishing it to anyone else._

And Kylo was meant to focus on a mission after _that_? Kylo had left for three standard weeks after that interaction and had been horrendously distracted the entire time. All he could think of was returning to Hux, proudly stepping up to the bridge to show that he followed Hux’s instructions, that he had fought bravely, traveled safely, returned in one piece as requested and maybe surprise the General and tell him he was 'glad to be back.' He would be too – he would be glad to get back to _The Finalizer_ , back in Hux’s company. And saying so out loud might fluster Hux or put on him that unguarded expression he wore when he was pleasantly thrown.

Kylo had never had a _friend_ before, though and boundaries were difficult to navigate or predict for that reason. He and Hux argued often and while neither ever apologized to the other, no matter their transgressions, they would find somewhere in the middle to meet. They would behave as friends do (or so Kylo thought friends behaved), then one of them would unintentionally (or sometimes completely intentionally) insult the other, they’d argue loudly and the offender would typically make some silent peace offering at a later date; food, alcohol, a silent handshake, a simple incline of the head.

There was an ebb and flow to their dynamic just like the regulated pulse of the ship. Kylo grew used to it and even came to enjoy it. Phasma made herself scarce when Kylo was around – he couldn’t tell why and when he asked Hux, Hux rolled his eyes and muttered something about her being over-protective.

Some meals Hux invited Kylo to eat with him, some long, arduous shifts Kylo would stay beside Hux on the bridge for and occasionally they even sparred together – Kylo was brute strength and raw skill, but Hux was agile, strategic and would sometimes even teach Kylo a thing or two. Hux did win, sometimes, but he never rubbed it in Kylo’s face and Kylo did Hux the same favor – they came to respect one another that way. It took time, but the respect did come and it stayed, even when they argued.

“Five out of seven,” Kylo had demanded.

They were both sweating and out of breath and Hux looked utterly done. He rolled his brilliant, icy eyes and replied, “absolutely not! I need sleep, you know!”

“I don’t understand why I keep losing!” Kylo complained, throwing his sparring staff to the ground in a fit.

“You need to work _smarter_ , not _harder_ ,” Hux quoted, like some Academy professor (Hux didn’t like speaking about his years at the Academy, but he had shared enough for Kylo to get a general idea about what level of Hell it most resembled), “I’m afraid when we spar, it is very much brawn versus brain – sometimes, brain just wins. As impressive as your muscles are, Ren, they won’t win you wars – only battles.”

“Oh, shut it,” Kylo hissed angrily, sitting down on the mat and tugging his hair out of its band with needless aggression.

Hux cocked his hip to the side and had said, “you know, you’ll be sore about this someday.”

“I’m sore about it _now_ ,” Kylo mumbled.

“I mean _me_ ,” Hux corrected, smiling just a little when Kylo looked up at him, “You’ll miss me someday. You’ll think of your old acquaintance, General Hux, what a fine man he was! You’ll miss me. Even the bickering and ass-whippings.”

“You did _not_ whip me,” Kylo argued, trying to remain indignant and furious, but humor was creeping up his chest and threatening to make him smile.

Hux saw right through him.

“I’m sorry to report this to you, Ren, but your ass has been thoroughly whipped.”

What started off as a highly-offended snarl turned into a bubbling laughter Kylo couldn’t control and more than relieved by it, Kylo was _thrilled_ by it when Hux sat on the mat with him and laughed as well. Kylo could not remember ever feeling so light.

Cycles like that came and went and Snoke encouraged it – he told Kylo that passion is the root of the Dark side of the Force and that if what he felt for the General incited passion, deep-rooted emotion, then it could only make him stronger. With Snoke’s blessings, Kylo pursued a most unorthodox friendship with General Hux.

The fighting never really stopped – Hux was uptight and Kylo was uncontrollable, but they laughed too, traded secrets when the mood struck them, shared jokes that no one else would understand out of context. They shared meals and Hux would lecture him on the formation of stars and planetary systems, physics and aerodynamic engineering. Kylo would exchange that knowledge with lectures on the Force, what it is and how it functions, how to construct a lightsaber, what receiving visions feels like and means.

It was after a heated conference that Hux confided in Kylo that he despised his father, Brendol, the Commandant and Kylo offered to kill him. Kylo had assumed that’s what a friend would do; someone made Hux immensely unhappy and so, the friendly thing to do in Kylo’s mind was to eliminate this decidedly problematic someone.

Hux had considered the offer in all seriousness, had taken Kylo’s hand in his and then said, “that won’t be necessary, Ren. But thank you. Truly.”

His gratitude at just the offer of protection and rescue came off him in waves, making Kylo’s heart thump strangely. He held tightly to Hux’s hand and said softly and without knowing why, “I used to be Ben Solo.”

Those beautiful, lapis eyes had widened like never before and Kylo was almost proud of himself for disrupting the General’s composure. Hux had blushed, even, his fingers twitching a bit against Kylo’s and he had asked, “what was he like?”

Kylo shrugged, “I don’t remember, really. Weak, sad, lonely, self-loathing, insecure… a child. Just a child.”

Hux paused and that’s how Kylo knew Hux was choosing his next words with the utmost care.

“If there were a grave to visit, I’d bring him something.”

Such a strange thing to say – sentimental at heart, but dreary and dark, macabre, but still, it made Kylo’s stomach tickle with butterflies, made his energies twist up like a cyclone wind – he didn’t know what it was he was feeling, but whatever it was, it was intense.

His brows had curved in and he’d leaned his head forward, resting his forehead against Hux’s, so close, so intimate and Hux hadn’t pushed him away or expressed any disgust at all. His aura was spotted with anxiety, but not fear and with something else untranslatable. It was good, though.

“Thank you. Thank you for saying that,” Kylo murmured, the back of his eyes feeling hot and his whole body clamoring for attention – it was like his very blood was reaching out to Hux, wanting him closer. Kylo’s heart had always been a greedy, hungry, rabid thing and there Hux had stepped close to it and now Kylo wanted to devour the man whole.

A few more standard months passed just like that, the roots of their relationship growing ever deeper and more entangled. If Hux noticed the frequency of intense displays of emotion between them, he never spoke to it and Kylo wasn’t about to ask why Hux was keeping him around. There was no doubt in Kylo's mind that Hux had a much better, more reliable and consistent friend in Captain Phasma, but for whatever reason, Hux chose to spend his time with Kylo instead. Kylo couldn't understand it - he knew he was bad at this friendship-thing, he knew his interpersonal skills were subpar at best - still, the General chose him time and again and every time, he was caught off-guard. Every time. He was still surprised, then, returning from a planet-side journey, fatigued and bruised, to find Hux in his private quarters as if it were normal for him to be there entirely unsupervised (which it most certainly was not.)

Hux was sitting in the common area and there was a black box situated in front of him on the cocktail table. Kylo looked at the box, then back to Hux. Hux was still mostly in uniform, though his high-collared jacket was slung over the back of the couch he sat on and his shirtsleeves were rolled up the way Kylo had taken a liking to. There was something about the veins in Hux’s arms that was inexplicably attractive.

“Take off that bucket and relax, it’s not a bomb.”

Kylo followed the order, removing his helmet and Hux must have immediately seen the tire on his face for his entire countenance shifted. His legs were crossed, his hands in his lap – Kylo noticed how his hands came together as if to keep from touching Kylo. Kylo wondered what Hux's hands would have liked to do in that moment.

“I would like to hear about your travels, Ren, but go wash up first,” Hux advised gently, “Get into something comfortable – if you even have anything comfortable, that is. And once I can have it, I’d like your undivided attention.”

Without another word, Kylo nodded and went to the refresher, washed off old blood, sweat and travel-grime, he shaved as well, hating the stubble that came with travel. He dressed down and padded out into the common area again on naked feet. His hair was still dripping a little, but he didn’t mind it – his room was warm and he enjoyed seeing Hux get disgruntled about the unruly nature of his hair. He sat across from Hux and gestured at the box.

“What is this?”

“If I wanted you to know what it was off-the-bat, I wouldn’t have boxed it in the first place.”

Kylo gave Hux a dry look and Hux uncrossed his legs, leaned his elbows onto his knees, traipsing his thin fingers along the box. He looked up at Kylo very meaningfully and Kylo’s shoulders slackened under the weight of Hux’s leaden feelings filling the room.

“I went to great pains to acquire this for you,” Hux began, hues of vermillion painting his cheeks and climbing up his exposed neck, “There were many favors I had to call in and I even went planet-side twice in your absence. You know I hate doing that - that _leg-work_.”

Yes, Kylo did know that. Kylo only nodded his understanding and Hux took a deep breath – it wasn’t often he was nervous and Kylo used to enjoy unnerving Hux, but right then he wished to soothe the anxiety away. Hux looked away again and continued, “this relic… I hope I have not overstepped my bounds. Do feel free to kick me out if I have. This, though, was as befitting a gift as I could think of for you. I can’t tell you how much research has gone into finding it and I really do hope it’s alright for me to give this to you.”

“What is this for?” Kylo asked suspiciously.

“We’ve been co-commanding _The Finalizer_ for four standard years now. I thought you’d be a thorn in my side, but you became much more than that and something different altogether,” Hux answered, still unable to look into Kylo’s eyes, “I remember first meeting you and thinking that nothing good could come of it. But, contrary as always, you proved me wrong. You’ve been my healer, confidant, advisor and… truly, you’ve made for a remarkable friend.”

Kylo’s heart skipped a beat, deeply flattered and Hux gave a sardonic type of laugh, looking up and away, “ah, First Order isn’t really where you expect to find kinship, exactly. I certainly never expected to find it in you. But here we are.”

Hux looked down at the box and nudged it forward with his gloved hand, “to four years and many more, Ren.”

There were several improbable gifts that came to mind before Kylo opened the box, but no unlikely scenarios prepared him for what actually hid within. The unwrapping revealed another box – this box was glass – it was a showcase and seated in dark sand was a damaged, melted, aged, but undeniably recognizable helmet.

Kylo couldn’t move.

_Darth Vader._

Hux’s anxiety bore down on Kylo like a shift in barometric pressure, his ears popping, his stomach going light, his heart suddenly too loud. He could hear Hux saying his name over and over again with increasing levels of concern, but Kylo couldn’t reply, he was frozen and all that displayed in his mind was a flashing error screen.

He didn’t realize anything was left of his grandfather.

He didn’t realize this treasure was out there in the galaxy, abandoned somewhere and _how_ did Hux get it? How did Hux know to look for it? How could Hux give this to him?

Hux stood up; uneasy and thinking he’d irrevocably offended Kylo. Kylo needed to let Hux know he was wrong – he was whatever was furthest from offended. He was honored, he was flattered, he was _overcome_ –

“I really am sorry, Ren, truly, I can see this wasn’t my place and I –“

Hux stiffened in worry as Kylo stood up from his seat and then proceeded to lose all control of his faculties – he knows there wasn’t a single sensible thought in his head at the time, because he all but stormed up to Hux as if in anger, grabbed him and kissed him. He cupped Hux’s jaw, pressed their bodies together and kissed Hux with a desperate sort of pressure, curling his body as closely to Hux’s as he could.

Hux’s lips were soft, fuller than Kylo expected them to feel and warm. Where Kylo thought he'd feel something icy and unmoving as Hux's nature, there was give - the give of human flesh, the heat of pulsing blood from a beating heart. It was all so human; Hux's skin was so silken, his cologne was romantic and dizzying, his body was so mortal, so simple – there was something cozy about it all. It felt like finally coming home. Like Kylo had been lost all this time, all his life and then he'd brought his body up close to Hux's and it had seen him home like a honing beacon, like a light on the path he'd always been alone on and he was suddenly very much not alone, he was suddenly _home_.

When Kylo pulled away, he didn’t open his eyes immediately. He was worried – worried that in a split second of rash, wild emotion, he’d ruined what enormous, beautiful thing it’d taken four standard years to grow. He was worried about what he’d find in Hux’s eyes.

“Ren –"

“Call me Kylo.”

There was a pause and in that pause, Kylo bravely opened his eyes.

Hux was beautiful.

Flustered, wide-eyed, his jugular bouncing erratically – his eyes practically glowed. He looked shocked, yes, but not displeased – not at all. There was even a budding happiness in his aura Kylo could sense and he wondered if Hux felt what he felt. If he felt like he’d finally made it home.

“I don’t deserve this,” Kylo told him, voice rough, “I don’t deserve _you_. This – I can’t begin to imagine what lengths you went to just to obtain the knowledge it was out there to be had. I will never repay you for this – not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t… there _is_ no way for me to repay you for this.”

The kiss had left Hux flushed and confused and Kylo’s confession had clearly left Hux speechless and looking like a blood moon; pale skin turned crimson in blotches that should have been unattractive but only made him inexplicably more endearing.

Kylo reached down and took Hux’s hand, removing the glove so that he could press Hux’s palm up to his cheek. He kissed Hux’s wrist, then the heart of his palm, reveling in how satin-soft Hux’s skin was. His own hands were calloused and rough, but Hux’s hands were velvety and Hux’s breathing was shallow, awed – Kylo opened his mouth to say something more, but Hux stopped him.

Hux thread his hand through Kylo’s wet hair and pulled him closer, hooking his other arm over Kylo’s shoulders to pull him down that inch or so he had on Hux and instinctively, Kylo took hold of Hux’s synched waist. Hux was so lithe, so serpentine and _perfect_. What Kylo once thought was weakness and even humorous to look upon was suddenly stunning.

When Hux pulled away, his lips were dark and plush and Kylo couldn’t help but stare. Hux removed his other glove and let his hands roam Kylo’s flanks and chest, breaking the silence gently, “tell me to stay with you tonight, Kylo.”

“Stay,” Kylo answered instantly, his chest a pounding drum, his body thrumming and coming alive with want at the sound of his name on Hux’s tongue, “Stay with me. Tonight. Forever. Stay.”

And Hux did.

They would both come to find that sex complicated a working relationship.

Their fights were no more frequent, but much more intense – Hux designated a special meditation room for Kylo as an apology after one such fight. Kylo put his grandfather’s helmet there and if left to his own devices, Kylo could fall into a meditative state for several cycles at a time in there. There was a fight wherein Kylo demanded more proof of Hux’s unwavering affections, jealous and possessive beast that he was and Hux gave him his dog tags, exposing his first name finally as he had never wanted to before ("Aurelien?" Kylo had read aloud, only to smacked upside the head for daring to speak it). Hux had handed those tags over with trust, warning him, “if you call me Ari, even once, I will not hesitate to kill you, Ren.”

Neither of them acknowledged that Hux could never kill Kylo or vice versa. They were both in too deep, cared too much and that fifth standard year, as furious with each other as they could get, as uneven as the scales would sometimes weigh, they privately adored one another.

Kylo taught Hux how to meditate, Hux made room for Kylo’s clothes in his closet. Hux would worship Kylo’s body and Kylo would let Hux into his mind, give him access to his memories and emotions. Kylo would go planet-side and Hux would pray that the Force be with him and Kylo would pull Hux in by his arms or neck or waist and kiss him senseless, throwing off both their schedules. Hux would leave a conference with the Commandant, emitting shame and fury and Kylo would kiss every inch of skin on Hux’s long, pale body until he was nothing more than a quivering tangle of lust, fondness and satisfaction.

Nearly two standard years passed like that.

When the map to Luke Skywalker came into Kylo’s thoughts, he zeroed in on it, hungry for revenge and justice. He was blinded by his ambition, he was cold to Hux, feeling as if Hux had been failing him by not getting him the resources and prisoners he needed. He and Hux spat at each other in front of Snoke like they had when they first met, they avoided one another, barely spoke in the months of searching.

Both were eager to point out the other’s shortcomings, failures – they blamed each other for the falling apart of Kylo’s quest, for his lack of findings, for the scavenger girl getting away with the droid, for the traitor stormtrooper that had defected, for the loss of the map to the Rebellion, for _everything_.

And it had all come crashing down around him.

When Kylo was torn up and bleeding out in the snow on Starkiller, he brimmed with regret. For more than himself. He wished for relief so desperately and he was very near to embracing death just for a chance, just for a taste of that relief. But then there was warmth and the weight of a familiar greatcoat sweeping over him.

He had opened his eyes blearily to see Hux above him and his eyes watered.

“I’ve ruined Starkiller,” is the first thing Kylo was able to say, “I ruined your masterpiece.”

“You nearly died is what you did,” Hux hissed back, applying pressure to the wound on Kylo’s side, “We need to get you out of here.”

“I’m sorry,” Kylo apologized, every bit of his soul feeling frayed and torn, “I’m –"

“You’re sorry for _yourself_ ,” Hux admonished, clearly annoyed and still exuding worry, “I’ve had enough of your self-pity for one cycle, I think.”

“You need to get out – the planet’s –"

“I _damn well know_ what’s happening to the planet!” Hux shouted, his own eyes tearful and more lit with emotion than Kylo had ever seen them.

There was so much there – Hux’s uncontrollable, unconditional affection for him, Hux’s brimming rage, Hux’s venomous doubts, Hux’s leaden sadness, his grief and his concern. Hux had learned to let his guards down every now and then over the past standard year or so, but never like that. He had never been such an open book and Kylo felt like it was more an open wound than a voluntary sharing. He hated himself for the look in Hux’s eyes because it seemed so much more like a lesion than an attempt to communicate.

“You ought to have listened to me,” Hux chastised, softly, so defeated and so resigned that it ached in Kylo’s chest, “You shouldn’t have brought that girl into this. You shouldn't have dismissed me. You… you haven’t kissed me in two standard months.”

Frowning deeply, Kylo felt more regret flood his lungs. It was so difficult to breathe and not just for the physical pain he was in. Hux was hurt.

 _He_ had hurt Hux.

And not because of the typical behaviors they both expected of him - not because he said something insensitive or acted out thoughtlessly, no - he had hurt Hux because his hatred for someone else had taken the seat at the forefront of his mind where his adoration for Hux was meant to be. Hux was left to the wayside, he was forgotten in Kylo's animosity - had two months truly passed like that?

Why had they been fighting? Why, when and how was anything but Hux ever  _that_  important? Kylo couldn’t remember. His fury was well and truly drained from him and all that was left was this well of wishes that he’d done things differently. Hux should not go without being kissed for so long. Hux should be idolized and adored, have his praises sung every day by every known choir and Kylo should have done that for Hux. He should have been stronger than this. He should not have allowed Hux to fall into his periphery - his heart was for Hux, not the map or the scavenger or the traitor or Han Solo. His heart was for Hux and he'd thrown it away for spiteful ambition and he'd never hated himself more than in that very moment.

If he had just stopped and listened, maybe all of the downfall could have been avoided, maybe –

But that’s useless. It’s useless to think of maybe’s. What was and what is – that’s all that’s left. That’s all that’s real or tangible.

The whirring of the rescue pod descending came upon them and Kylo muttered pitifully, “I can’t sit up. Too weak. Would you still kiss me?”

Hux rolled his glassy eyes long-sufferingly, but he exuded a type of relief at the request and bent down, brushing his lips over Kylo’s with more gentle care than Kylo had ever deserved. Kylo lifted his hand and touched bloody, calloused fingertips at Hux’s frost-reddened cheek and Hux sighed, his breath hot against Kylo’s lips. Kylo swore to himself he would do better – he would _be_ better. For Hux.

“Snoke wants you at the citadel posthaste. I’ll have the droids and healers do what they can before sending you off.”

Kylo nodded, trying to imagine what he might do to express his gratitude, his unwavering care, his pride and loyalty to Hux to make up for this horrible blunder. He thought that perhaps he would have time to consider the most appropriate apology while at the citadel, though he was loathe to leave Hux for any amount of time. When the pod landed, Kylo was carried in on a stretcher; he looked around briefly, the pod was small and Kylo felt a rush of something terrible sweep through him before he even consciously understood what was happening.

Hux was standing outside the pod, looking in with a furrowed brow. His jugular was bouncing, but not for pleasure or excitement. He was fearful.

“G-get on,” Kylo stammered.

Hux lingered in the opening of the pod, still not looking at him. Hux met eyes with the pilot and the pilot nodded at Hux with a knowing look.

“There’s no room.”

Kylo scowled at Hux, “what do you mean there’s no _room_!? Just lie on top of me or –"

“It’s weight distribution, Ren,” Hux replied, the wind whipping his fiery hair around, “You need to get out of here safely. This pod is too small to carry the both of us, two medical droids and a pilot. Go back to _The Finalizer_. I’ll call for another pod.”

 _He’s lying_ , Kylo knew; he took Hux’s wrist into his fist tightly.

“They won’t come in time!” Kylo yelled, attempting to sit up and seething at the ripping pain in his side, “I’m not going without you! Hux, get on the damned pod!”

“I can’t. It’s fine, Ren,” Hux assured him placatingly, “Captains ought to go down with their ships, right?”

Kylo had never been so instantaneously filled with hatred – the very notion made his blood curdle like spoiled milk, made him feel sick.

“You’re not a Captain, you’re a General,” Kylo argued nonsensically, willing to say anything – anything at all to get Hux onto the pod.

Hux smiled down at him, leaned forward and kissed his temple. A tear slipped from the corner of Kylo’s eye and he used what energy he had left to wrap himself around Hux’s mind, trying to influence him into the pod that truly had no room for him. Trying to influence a mind that he was never able to influence. Grasping desperately at the threads of hope pulled taut and ready to snap - the weight of Hux's greatcoat cloaked over him was keeping him warm, but his blood was running cold with anxiety.

_I love you, Kylo._

Kylo gasped as if a sharp pain had been delivered onto him at those words and the two droids that had been readying medical equipment were quickly around him, hooking up I.V’s and the pilot shouted something about needing to depart right then.

Kylo's fingers scrambled around Hux's wrist, tears budded between his clumping lashes and he turned his temple more against Hux's, his throat tightening, ears, eyes and chest getting feverish.

 _I love you, I love you, I love you, I’m sorry, so sorry, I’m so sorry, I love you, don’t leave – don’t leave_ –

 _Peace, Kylo_ , Hux answered, kissing him like a loving whisper and uncaring who saw, _Be well, stay safe and may the Force be with you._

Hux tore his wrist out of Kylo’s hold and called in that incredible self-control; he was suddenly not Hux, Kylo’s lover, but Hux, highly decorated General of the First Order. Hux looked determinedly at the pilot and ordered, as though it were the last order he’d ever give and the only one that ever mattered, “take off at hyperspeed. Get him to safety.”

“Yes, sir,” the pilot responded.

Kylo panicked, everything inside him screaming and coiling and frantic, looking up into those clever, bluer than blue eyes – _no, no, no, no, **no** , **no** , **no**_ –

Hux stepped down from the pod opening and kept his eyes on Kylo the entire while as the doors shut. Kylo thrashed upward, screaming Hux’s name, catching a second wind, enough adrenaline to numb the pain of his wounds and go after Hux, but the door was sealed and before he could Force it open, a medical droid inserted a butterfly needle into Kylo’s neck, injecting something that instantly blurred his vision until everything went black.

* * *

When Kylo came to, the med bay was bustling, overflowing, really. He was too slowed down by the painkillers to ask after his husband – no, no that wasn’t right – _Hux_. It was Hux he wanted to ask after and Hux was never his husband, though he often spent time imagining their marriage. Easy mistake to make. He’d been married to the man all but legally for the last two years.

He needed to ask how hurt Hux was, how burnt or frostbitten he’d been by the time a rescue pod got to him. He needed to ask to be moved to wherever Hux was healing, to stay with him, to get a full report on whatever injuries Hux had sustained.

Whatever was flowing through his veins had him in and out of consciousness three or four times before he could properly ask to ‘speak with the General.’

He didn’t know what to think when Phasma appeared before him minutes later.

General Phasma looked at him with palpable disdain when he was aware enough to carry conversation.

“Where is he?”

“Gone,” she replied sharply, “He’s gone.”

 _That doesn’t make sense_ , Kylo thought with worry, _Hux wouldn’t take a pod and defect. Unless he’s scared of Snoke. He must be scared to face Snoke – I won’t allow Snoke to kill him. He must know I would never allow Snoke to kill him. I need to reach him_ –

“What were his last coordinates?”

 

 

“He’s dead.”

 

 

It echoed, unforgiving, heinous, enduring and hateful.

 

 

The walls closed in, dense and throbbing, the room spun like a vortex and in the span of a second, Kylo died a thousand times.

Even as he made himself sick into the nearest trash bin, Kylo sensed that Phasma felt no pity for him. She was furious and eager to be rid of him, to deliver him to the citadel and never see his likeness again. _The Finalizer_ , it seemed, belonged to her then, in Hux’s stead.

“Hux –"

“Was my friend. And he's gone. Hux is dead and it is your fault,” Phasma clarified bitterly, leaving no room for doubt, “Starkiller collapsed around him. Navigators had their systems locked on his location, but the pod didn’t make it in time. He’s gone.”

Hux is gone, gone, _gone_ – he’s gone and gone is gone, gone is gone forever and Kylo hates himself, he hates the universe, he hates Phasma, he hates the Force, he hates the scavenger, he hates the traitor, he hates, _he hates_ , **_he hates_** –

Screaming something loathsome and mournful into the air with no direction in mind, his energy blasted outward, sending everything around him flying to the farthest walls of the room. He gripped at his scalp, pulling the hair and hating, hating, _hating_ more than one _can_ hate. He had more hate than could fit in his human body, more hate than could set the galaxy ablaze. What was worse was that everyone around him was fearful at the outburst – even Phasma.

Phasma was terrified by his show of power, of his unpredictability, his explosive temper and he hated her, hated her, _hated her_ – she was _nothing_ like Hux. Hux _never_ feared him, not even for a moment – Hux never feared him and Hux _loved_ him and Hux was gone and it was Kylo’s fault.

He fell back into his bed, his wounds all bleeding through their wrappings, his face stinging where he’d been cut with the tip of the lightsaber. He pushed the heart of his palms against his eyes with terrible pressure and wept.

It was all there was left to do.

He couldn’t apologize to Hux, he couldn’t tell Hux he loved him, he couldn’t hold Hux, kiss Hux, take Hux into his body, spar with Hux, eat with Hux, laugh with Hux, tell Hux he’s brilliant, smile at Hux, make _Hux_ smile that phenomenal smile of his and he never would again. He couldn’t have any of it again and so all he could do was weep.

And weep he would.

As wrong as it felt, time continued to pass, with or without Kylo’s consent. Every synapse and every speckle of marrow in his bones ached for Hux; he wanted life to slow down to a stop so he could get off - he was nauseous, he was miserable, he was void and everything reminded him of Hux.

Every shadow was a spark of hope in his periphery, every time someone delivered an order, he thought he might hear Hux’s voice, every clash of sparring rods made Kylo think that maybe, for a moment, he would walk into that gym and see Hux standing there, ready to show him that brawn doesn't always win. Sometimes someone's cologne was just slightly too similar to Hux's - never quite the same, but close to - sometimes Kylo made the mistake of hanging Hux's greatcoat in such a way that the light from his viewport would make shadows on his walls, make a silhouette that in his partially-asleep state would register as the shape of Hux. Everything in him and outside him reminded him of Hux. The entire universe conspired against him, sending him memory after memory to trip him up and stumble over.

There was a day, in the citadel, training, so full of violent mania and sorrow that Kylo became irritated with absolutely everything - even the hair on his neck. He tied it back, remembering how the first time Hux had said something relatively kind to him, it had been about his hair, about why he wore it so long - he tied that hair back, thinking Hux would have told him that he ought to have cut it, wishing for Hux and his holier-than-thou attitude, wanting for Hux and the lilt of his tender voice, _dying_ for Hux and like a ghost, Hux appeared before him.

Kylo knew it wasn’t real. Hux wasn’t a Force ghost. Hux was gone and gone is gone and gone is gone forever.

He was dressed down, sweaty, out of breath, his hair ruffled, his eyes bright with life and humor. He was a memory, come to taunt Kylo. He cocked his hip to the side and said, damningly, “you’ll miss me someday. You’ll think of your old acquaintance, General Hux, what a fine man he was! You’ll miss me.”

Hux would never know how right he was.

Kylo would miss him with an unmatched agony.

* * *

 

Looking to the Knight beside him, Kylo speaks carefully into his vocoder, “of course I remember it well. I think of it with every moment of my life. Of course I remember it.”

Kylo rubs at the center of his chest where beneath his robes, Hux’s dog tags move against his skin.

 _“You’ll miss me,”_ Hux had warned and Gods, he could never know how much.

Kylo swallows roughly, turning his hood against the whipping wind and rain, swearing to the Knight, “I will never forget.”

_And never forgive._

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't stay up til midnight to post this on the actual second of November, but w/e you get it lol


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